


Costumes, Chastity-Belts And Classic Cars

by Cerdic519



Series: Bewhipped! [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Blow Jobs, Caring Dean, Castiel in Panties, Chastity Device, Computers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean In A Superhero Costume, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor Sexy M.D., Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Gay Sex, Gentle Dom Castiel, Halloween Costumes, Hand Jobs, Historical Reenactment, Improper Use of Historical Paraphernalia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Karma - Freeform, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Neighbors, Oral Sex, Pie, Professor Castiel, Restraints, Sub Dean, Superheroes, Teasing, Texas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, role-play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 11,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8175988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: October in a year of fluff, families, friends and the sort of full-force love and devotion in which professor Castiel has mechanic Dean totally bewhipped. Thankfully the angst of recent times fades, as Fall starts with a (wind)fall and passes via glasses to end with an unexpected business opportunity. The college does History Week, which gives Dean a whole new appreciation for that subject - mostly of the horizontal variety - thanks to Cas deciding to go to work in costume Every. Freakin'. Day! And a rare(ish) moment of untidiness leads to a severe case of blue balls for Dean, with a Halloween that is both excruciating and Wonderful!





	1. Monday 1st October

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unexpecteddreamz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unexpecteddreamz/gifts), [Chiefraz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiefraz/gifts).



Dean was having a good day, helped by the headline on the paper that showed a former teacher at Cas' college coming home to find all his belongings out on the front lawn with a set of divorce papers on top. Though he was now a bit concerned at the way Cas was staring at a letter that had just come.

“Aren't you gonna open it?” Dean asked. They usually got the mail before they left of a morning, but today they had both had to go in early, so they were checking through their mail over dinner.

“It's from the family lawyers”, Cas said, looking at the envelope as if he were afraid it might explode. “I wonder if it's bad news?”

“Only one way to find out”, Dean grinned. “Open Sesame!”

Cas looked at him uncertainly.

“Oh come on, you're an English professor”, Dean snorted. “You've heard of Ali Baba and the Forty.... you're having me on again, you sneaky little fucker!”

“There is nothing little about me”, Cas said primly. “As your butt is gonna find out later. Or sooner!”

Whilst Dean fought down a(nother) hard-on, Cas finally opened the damn envelope, and extracted two pieces of paper. One was clearly a check.

“Money?” Dean said hopefully.

“Over eight thousand bucks!” Cas said, dazed.

“What?”

Cas read the letter, and his face cleared. He turned to his husband.

“When each of us reached eighteen, Father wanted us to have some experience in the stock market”, he explained. “He gave us a notional thousand dollars each, and we could invest it in whatever company we liked. We didn't actually get any money, but he said that seven years on, we would get any profits we made.”

“You chose bloody well!” Dean said.

“I had no idea what I was doing, and chose a company with 'angel' in its name”, Cas said, reading the letter. “They apparently made some great invention, and were bought out two years ago.”

“So we're rich?” Dean asked. “Clever you.”

Cas grinned at him.

“Yeah”, he said. “Now I can order that dildo with thirty-six settings - including knotting - and the remote that they claim works by satellite signal. Just think; I could be away in New York and make you come thousands of miles away, deep in the heart of Texas!”

Dean whimpered in fear. Orgasms by satellite? Surely NASA had rules about that?


	2. Tuesday 2nd October

Cas had been late home the day before, and tonight he was late again. Even though he had texted to assure Dean he was fine, his husband still worried. Finally, however, the little scruff was walking into the kitchen, and Dean noted with displeasure the huge box of papers he was carrying as well as his dorky satchel.

“What gives?” he asked. “'S'not exam season already, is it?”

Cas shook his head.

“Poor Inias is down with chickenpox”, he said glumly. “You know how it's worse for adults. He sent in to Missouri offering to try to do some work whilst he was off if she would send it to him, but she refused.”

Dean nodded. Inias McMorran was the only other openly gay staff member at the college, married to Alfie who owned the pet store in town. Unfortunately the two lived on the opposite side of town from Dean and Cas, otherwise they might have been closer. Inias was a short dark-haired guy in his early thirties, a good teacher but a born worrier according to Cas.

“Missouri is employing substitutes”, Cas explained, “but they only do the teaching and mark the work they themselves give the students. Missouri doesn't expect them to mark essays that count towards the students' final grades. At least we haven't the planning to do as well; Inias has the whole term set up, and he should be alright again in three weeks.”

“Seems you're getting more than your fair share”, Dean said dubiously.

“Luck of the draw”, Cas said dismissively. “We're paired off for such things, and I've got Inias. At least he can know I'll do things properly. And there are compensations.”

“Such as?” Dean asked. Cas gave him a feral look, and he flinched.

“I'll have a lot of extra frustration to work off on your butt later!”

Dean did not whimper. It was just a high-pitched cough.

Alright, it was a whimper, for what was about to befall Dean's poor butt. And it proved all too right!


	3. Wednesday 3rd October

Neither of them had seriously thought about how to spend Cas' recent windfall, though Dean was quietly determined that it would not just disappear into household expenses. Except today, they had an unexpected if temporary expense.

“The toilets are not flushing properly”, Cas said as he came back from the bathroom. “Neither of them. It must be a problem with the pipes. I might just go over to Mrs. Tran and ask her if she's got the same problem.”

Dean looked at him pointedly.

“What?”

“Cas, you're only wearing a dressing-gown”, Dean said with a smile. “I don't want my husband parading around the state in a state of undress. That body is mine and mine alone!”

Damn, but sometimes Cas was like the angel he was named after, the way he could fly across the room! Dean was sure he only blinked, but Cas was suddenly right next to him.

“I'm gonna get dressed”, he growled, “and when I come back, I want you downstairs, naked, hands on the kitchen table and prepped for me. Kapish?”

Dean nodded frantically. 

“I kapish!” He sounded like he was on helium.

+~+~+

Cas, the bastard, got dressed far too slowly and then went to both Mrs. Tran and Sarah Blake, both of whom it turned out were having the same problem. Sarah had called the estate officer, who had been told by the water company that there was a blockage in the pipes that would be pushed through later that same day.

Dean, however, would remember this as the day he was 'pushed through', with Cas coming back into the kitchen and literally walking straight up and fucking him for a solid minute until he came. And then proceeding to cook breakfast with his cock still out and hard, stroking himself occasionally while smirking at a husband who found sitting down painful! Bastard!

Though Dean wouldn't have 'had' him any other way.


	4. Thursday 4th October

The good thing was that the plumbing problems of yesterday had been short-lived. The bad thing was on Dean's desk when he got into work. A new computer.

Okay, so the office needed one. The old one was actually beige, that pale vomit shade that had been so popular back then (or at least the only color available) before producers cottoned on to the fact that, yeah, people hated beige. The new one was black and looked a hundred times more efficient. And ten thousand times more complicated.

Krissy handed him a bag from the tech shop in town.

“I got you four memory sticks, just in case”, she said. “I think with the files you keep on your current back-up, one might be enough, but they say that it's best to have two back-ups these days.”

Dean thanked her. He could relate to that; Bobby was instinctively distrustful of computers and insisted on keeping the old paper records in a back office, and while Dean was a lot happier working with them he still had a silent fear of the damn thing swallowing all of his data.

“Just remember, no porn!” the secretary teased.

“Don't have time for that here”, Dean scoffed. “Besides, I go home to Cas every night, and we....”

He stopped. The damn woman had taken out her notepad again, and had her pencil poised, ready to take notes! He shook his head at her.

“Actually I'll just sit here and think about it”, he smiled.

“You're no fun!” she scowled.

“Cas doesn't think so”, he grinned. “In fact he usually waits until he has me pinned down and is that the time I think I need to get started.”

He ducked just in time to avoid the screwed-up piece of paper she threw at him.


	5. Friday 5th October

They usually had staff meetings at the garage every Friday during which they kept up with any changes in town, though there was rarely much to say. Bobby kept a watchful eye on the two rival garages nearby, so it was usually just a get-together over coffee. Today however, Bobby had news.

“I got contacted by the AAA”, he said gruffly. “Last year there were a couple of breakdowns in the area over Christmas, and they had to get people out from Dublin to pick them up. They'd like at least one place in town to stay open this year.”

“You want us to give up Christmas with our families?” Benny asked, shocked. Bobby shook his head.

“Not this year”, he said. “Here's the thing; they're willing to pay for one place to be open all Christmas week, the twenty-fifth is on a Tuesday this year. And when I say pay, I mean real pay. They'll quadruple your normal wage from Christmas Eve through to New Year's Day, so you'd get seven times on the day if we opened and six for the rest of the week, plus they'll also cough up extra for each job.”

“Why not this year?” Dean asked. Not that he wanted to give up his first Christmas with Cas (and, he hoped, Ben), he was just curious.

“I met with Cray and Joss”, Bobby said. “Cray has two men with kids on the way who need the money, so he's gonna do this Christmas. Y'all know I won't ask any of you to come in if you don't want to next year or the year after, but the money'll be there if you need it.”

Dean could see that the offer was tempting. Cain had four kids, and though he was fairly well off his eldest was not that far from having to start thinking about college. Ash always wanted money for the tech gadgetry that he was so fascinated with, and if Benny and Andrea did have kids as they hoped, they too would welcome extra cash. 

“Fuckin' Christmas!” Bobby grunted. “Humbug!”

None of the men smiled at that. At least not until they were safely back at work.


	6. Saturday 6th October

There was one big advantage to the huge, thick-leafed conifers in their front garden, Dean had decided. The first was that they blocked any view from the street through their front windows, which meant Dean could pad around the house naked and molest (or more likely, be molested by) his husband in any room of the house. Except the sun room whose bowed arch faced Calleva Close; Dean had only realized that the time he had been fucking Cas and had caught sight of the Reverend Andy coming down the road; fortunately he had been able to carry his husband into the gym and finish things off there. Though he did recall a knowing look from the pastor the following Sunday which had made him more than a little uncomfortable.

Dean smiled as Cas came round from the water-butts with his horrendous pink watering-can, and started watering the first of their five beds. They were all still a riot of color; his clever husband had mixed all his bee-friendly plant choices with primulas, which just kept on keeping on, and even better, self-seeded. A plant that took care of itself. Great!

A flash of movement caught Dean's eye from the wood, and he looked across their back hedge. Someone was walking through the wood towards the empty plot in the Close between their house and the vicar's. It was a teenage boy in a leather jacket.

“Isn't that the kid we saw with Eulalia Menzies?”

Dean did not let out a girly shriek, nor did he jump at his husband's apparent closeness. Though Cas' smirk suggested that he may have been perilously close to doing one or both of those things.

“And leaving from the back of her property”, Dean said, recovering his breath. “I saw her parents heading out earlier.”

The two men exchanged knowing looks, as the figure scurried across the empty plot and almost ran down the Close to the footpath that connected to the adjoining estate. Well well. 

+~+~+

Cas was a bit surprised when Dean opted for a pizza from a different place in town that evening, but his husband said he just wanted to try them out. In reality it was because this particular place did custom-made pizzas of the sort he needed for this evening. And Cas was even more surprised when the huge pizza came, and was not a meat feast.

“You got my ham and pineapple?” he asked, confused. “You said you hate fruit on pizza.”

Dean blushed, then opened the box. Inside, instead of the usual round pizza, there was one shaped like a heart.

“Oh.”

“The anniversary of our first kiss”, Dean said softly, silently thanking technology for phone reminders. It was worth that look that Cas gave him, as if he had hung the moon rather than gotten pizza. It was even worth the blasphemy of.... euw, fruit on pizza!


	7. Sunday 7th October

Most people, it was fair to say, thought that Dean Winchester had the emotional capacity of a plank. And it was indeed true that whilst the man hated chick flick moments, there was one area in which he did put the effort in. Cas.

Which was why he had said nothing when they had gone to church that day, and his 'Cas-dar' had immediately pinged to warn him that something was not quite right. But Cas had that closed look about him, which meant that Dean would have to choose the right moment to wheedle out whatever was clearly (to Dean, at least) bothering him.

They had driven to the little church because Cas wanted to stop at the garden center on the way back to buy some odds and ends. When Dean found him staring blankly at some sort of birdhouse (ye Gods, had they swapped the price tag with a gold ingot or something?), he felt worried.

“What's up?” he asked anxiously. “You've been upset ever since church. Did someone say something?”

Cas shook his head. For a moment Dean wondered if he was going to clam up, but then he spoke.

“I know when one of my students is not being straight with me”, Cas said thoughtfully, running his hand along the smooth wood of the bird-table. “I just felt that the pastor was off this morning. And I think Parker knows something about it too.”

Dean was not jealous that Cas referred to their next door but one neighbor by his first name. He was not. Though from Cas' slight knowing smile, he may have reacted as if he was. 

“I mentioned it to him, and he was evasive”, Cas said. “It worries me.”

Dean embraced him in a hug. 

“Why don't you just get your garden crap, then we can go home and I can work on stopping you worrying”, he whispered.

“Yeah”, Cas smiled. “How are you gonna do that. Dean Winchester?”

“Anyway you want, Cas. I'm flexible.”

“But you can't suck your own dick like I can!”

Ye gods, right in the middle of the garden center? Was Cas trying to end him?

+~+~+

By what happened in their garage an hour or so later – before they had even unpacked the damn car - apparently he was! And Dean was fine with that!


	8. Monday 8th October

Marriage was all about compromise, Dean had read somewhere (probably in one of those ancient magazines at the dentist's). And the previous evening, he and Cas had had a discussion about Ben, and how things were going to have to change. 

It wasn't that Dean was not desperate for the kid to move in with them, and for him (eventually, when he wanted) to become 'Ben Winchester'. But it did mean an end to Dean coming home and getting naked and collared - or as it was now, wrist-banded - for his husband. Which sucked.

Cas, however, had a compromise. They would wind down gradually over the next few weeks, Dean wearing boxers this week, boxers and a vest or t-shirt the one after, and then regular clothes. But he would still wear the wrist-band, and he would still be Cas' whenever his husband wanted him. Which, Cas warned, would be more often this week in particular as it was History Week at the college. And today was Columbus Day.

'In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,  
Columbus sailed the ocean blue'

And found America, Dean thought. Or tried to think, as Cas was currently undertaking a voyage of discovery for the territory of Prostatia Deanwinchesteria, and yup, he was about to make landfall. Dean's eyes watered.

It didn't help that Cas, being the nerd he was, had insisted on being in costume for his students, and had gone to work dressed as a fifteenth century adventurer. An adventurer who had very nearly got ravished on his way out of the door, and would have done if he'd been a fraction slower. He'd yelled to Dean that he would make up for it that evening, and boy, was he a man of his word.

Land ho! Dean screamed in a mixture of agony and delight as Cas finally hit pay dirt, and the taller man came all over his bare chest and Cas' uniform. Hot damn!

Education was fun fun fun!


	9. Tuesday 9th October

Cas had obviously learned from yesterday, because the sneaky little fucker had woken Dean up that morning with an enthusiastic fucking that had sent his husband straight back to sleep again. By the time the alarm clock warned him to wake up a second time – his bastard husband had placed it across the room, so Dean couldn't hit the snooze button – Cas was gone. Only then did Dean remember that Cas would be in costume again today. Fucker!

Alright, Dean didn't really object that much. Instead, he wondered which epoch his sexy husband would be dressed for today. Happy thoughts!

+~+~+

Apparently, today it was Vikings.

“Few people know”, Cas rumbled in his sexy bass, “that it was actually the Vikings who were the first Europeans to discover America. They landed on and established a settlement on the island of Newfoundland, which was later destroyed by the native peoples.”

Dean was trying to pay attention – he was, honest! - but it didn't help that his hands and feet were tied to the four corners of the bed, and his body was totally at the mercy of the horny Viking kneeling between his legs. Horny in both senses; Cas was wearing the traditional horned helmet (even Dean knew those only existed in the world of Hagar The Horrible, a comic he did not read avidly every day).

And nothing else. Dean had had to put up with that image in his head ever since arriving at the garage and getting a text with a picture from Cas. Over lunch. When he had been sat with the other guys.

“The spread or blood eagle was an alleged Viking method of execution”, Cas grinned, scooting back a little to kiss his way up Dean's left leg. “Of course, being Vikings they would torture their victim for some considerable time before delivering the final blow.”

“Final blow!” Dean gasped.

“As you wish”, Cas grinned.

And with that he suddenly shot forward and took Dean's cock in his mouth. His husband let out a scream which actually went off the scale and he writhed under the attack, before coming violently. He was only dimly aware of Cas kissing his way up his chest, until his husband was fully on top of him.

“Final blow job”, Cas amended. “I may have changed history just a bit.”

“Mwah?”


	10. Wednesday 10th October

Nope, he'd been wrong. Yesterday he'd thought Cas could not torture him worse than the Viking eagle thing. It had taken his sex maniac of a husband barely twenty-four hours to thoroughly disprove that particular theory. Very, very thoroughly disprove!

Dean was currently standing naked next to their couch, on which Cas was reclining whilst wearing a toga. Yup, today it was Romans. Which meant that Senator Castiellus got to come home, have a slap up meal and have his personal slave Decanus standing by every time he wanted to fondle the man's dick or tease him in some other way. And had the Romans even had cock-rings?

Cas grinned up at him and nodded slowly. Psychic as ever!

To cap it all, the coffee-table was covered in all Dean's favorite foods (including pie, dammit!), and he wasn't allowed to have any! Being a slave was crap!

“I suppose I could feed you”, Cas drawled, “but you would have to earn it.”

Dean perked up.

“How, o master?” he asked.

Cas shifted his toga around, and Dean's heart-rate shot up.

“You.... you went into class commando?” he gaped. He sounded like he had been on the helium again

“I wanted to make it realistic”, Cas smirked. “It felt very... liberating. And besides, it makes things so much easier now, don't you think?”

Dean was still recovering from the thought of his husband wearing only a bed sheet, in front of a class of horny students who probably (certainly) lusted after him even in normal clothes.

“How?” he managed, torn between jealousy and lust. Cas pointed to his erection.

“Every time you get me off, you get food”, he said simply.

Meh, Dean supposed he could work with that.

+~+~+

Dean got a whole lot of food.


	11. Thursday 11th October

Cas was trying to kill him! There was no other possible explanation. How Dean did not have a heart-attack and end up dead on their kitchen floor that evening, heaven only knew.

In one of those strokes of bad luck that the universe seemed to reserve for people called Dean Winchester, Cain's nephew Seth was one of the students in Cas' class. Which meant that the bastards at the garage knew all about the professor's 'unique' approach to History Week, and knowing Dean could pretty much guess what would happen every evening at 'Bewhipped!' That and Dean's reaction to the Viking text pic, which had been, well, notable.

Look, the scream hadn't been that loud! And Benny had been wrong, it had not been 'girly'. Not at all!

Naturally the bastards couldn't keep it to themselves. Krissy gave him a smug look when he came back from getting lunch for everyone.

“Seth just texted a picture from Cas' history lesson today”, she grinned. “Wanna see it?”

“He shouldn't be taking pics of his professor”, Dean said grumpily. 

“Believe me Dean, I'm so glad he did! He made a young woman very happy!”

Dean was almost afraid to look.

+~+~+

By the time the pimpmobile made its presence known in the garage (seriously, how could such a little pile of crap be louder than Baby?), Dean was a bundle of nerves. He'd even considered going online and seeing if the shot had been posted there, but he'd (just) refrained. And then Cas walked in. 

Bare-chested. Wearing sandals and a grass-skirt. Dean was gonna die!

“The Polynesians were a very interesting culture”, Cas said dryly. “Do you know, amongst the things they discovered...”

“Fuck me!” Dean burst out. “Right now!”

Cas grinned.

“As you wish, Dean.” 

+~+~+

Safe to say, Dean would never view Hawaii Five-O in quite the same light again!


	12. Friday 12th October

Somehow – proof if needed that there was a God - Dean had made it to the end of the week with his sanity intact. Just. One more day of history lessons, and he could limp into the weekend. He probably would be limping, when Cas had done with him. Honestly, to think he'd once thought history boring!

He was still struggling to adapt to the new computer at work – damn thing kept updating every five minutes and he couldn't get the pop-up blocker to work properly, which was irritating – so at least he had that to distract him. Except that every time he stopped doing anything, his mind immediately started to go over possibilities for that evening. What would it be? Egyptians? Greeks? One of the First Nations?

He noticed when he drove into the garage that Cas had got home before him and had changed their usual stars and stripes out front for the Texas state flag. He wondered if that was a clue, perhaps. Once inside the garage he shucked everything except his boxers, then looked around for his husband. He soon found the post-it attached to the kitchen table:

'Upstairs. “Come” when ready.'

And there was a picture of Cas. Wearing the full Davy Crockett outfit, right up to that ridiculous coonskin cap. Dean barely touched the stairs as he all but flew to the bedroom, throwing open the door and.....

Holy fuck!

Cas. Wearing that bloody ridiculous cap with the tail hanging down. Just the cap. Nothing else. And it was not on his head!

Slowly, the cap rose.

“Guessin'.... Texas.... Independence?” Dean managed, quite proud he'd done those word things. Almost a complete sentence of them.

“Yeah”, Cas smiled darkly. “The Texans wanted freedom. Hands and knees, Dean. I'm gonna use that freedom to make myself king of your wild front and rear!”

His husband shook his head at him.

“That was just bad!” he complained.

+~+~+

Bad, but truuuuuue!


	13. Saturday 13th October

Cas stared at his husband and sighed. Dean had just staggered in from the garden with a nosebleed. He looked confused and not a little embarrassed.

“What happened?” Cas asked, concerned. 

“Fell over”, Dean muttered, not looking at him. Which was lucky, as his husband only narrowly bit back a snort of disbelief. His husband was a terrible liar.

Cas hurried over to their medical cupboard, and pulled out the box of tissues, some cotton wool and the antiseptic. Dean was holding his handkerchief to the wound, but the blood was already beginning to seep through it. Cas made him lie flat on his back on the rug, then set about staunching the wound. The blood flow stopped quite soon.

“How did you fall over?” Cas asked casually, wandering over to the kitchen window to look outside. Their rake lay at an angle on the path between the middle flowerbeds. He smiled, but composed his features before turning round.

“Just stumbled, that's all”, Dean muttered.

“Uh huh”, Cas said disbelievingly. “So if I had happened to be looking out of a certain window and had seen a certain husband step on a certain garden implement such that it rose rapidly through a ninety degree angle and struck said certain husband squarely in the face...?”

Dean blushed even more.

“You saw me”, he muttered. “Fuck!”

“Kapow!” Cas grinned. “Garfield would be so proud of you.”

“I got a rake in the face!” Dean pouted. “I'm hurt. Where's my sympathy?”

“Sorry”, Cas grinned, kneeling down beside him. “Let me help take your mind off of the pain.”

“How're you gonna do..... oh fuck!”

Dean barely had time to draw breath before his husband had his shorts and boxers down round his ankles and was using those long hands of his to elicit an erection so fast that Dean later swore (once he could think again) that he had felt light-headed, as all his blood had headed to his lower brain. He let out a noise that would have made a lot more sense coming from a mating seal, and within a minute he was coming (what remained of) his brains out. He stared in amazement at his husband.

“I'd better go and clean your nice new floor for you”, Cas grinned, “seeing as how you just came all over it.”

“Mwah?”


	14. Sunday 14th October

Dean liked their bed. It had been sold as a four-poster, which was a bit of a stretch as it had four square metal posts rising up to a rectangular top section, but he supposed that they could have found curtains or some crap to hang from that and make it look more like a real old-time bed.

Cas, apparently, had found a rather more interesting use for that top railing. For as well as tying Dean's wrists to the top of their bed at the start of that evening's entertainment, he had then produced a long leather strip with loops at each end. Dean had wondered about it, until Cas had thrown it over the top railing and then slotted his husband's feet through the loops, leaving Dean trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey!

But then Cas had left him horny and desperate, and gone into the bathroom. Little fucker! Dean was actually wondering if he might just get off from being in this position alone, when he heard his husband return to the room. He turned to look at him – and froze! Cas was wearing a doctor's coat, complete with stethoscope (if he'd put it in the freezer again Dean would end him!)! 

And not only that, but Dean very quickly realized that Cas was wearing just the coat. With nothing underneath! How he did not come then and there was a bloody miracle!

“Ah, Mr. Winchester”, Cas purred seductively. “Thank you for coming in for your prostate examination.”

And then the sneaky fucker produced a set of rubber gloves from his pocket, and slowly eased them onto his hands, snapping them more than once. Dean moaned as Cas moved round to the business end, and would have twitched when he felt the first (lubed) finger at his entrance except movement was all but impossible. Cas pushed in, feeling around but – the bastard! – he was deliberately missing Dean's prostate. Dean's cock was straining by now, and he almost wished his husband had fitted a cock-ring on him.

“I think I need a more penetrative instrument”, Cas rumbled. “Something to get in even deeper!”

He stepped back round to within Dean's line of vision – and stepped out of the coat. 

Dean came violently. Fuck it!

Except Cas was pushing into him, and going straight for gold, and Dean might be in his mid-twenties now but incredibly he was getting hard so quickly it actually hurt. Cas jabbed at his prostate one more time, and Dean came a second time, moaning his happiness to the world and almost missing his husband's own orgasm until Cas unclipped him and his legs fell to the bed, followed quickly by the dead weight of his husband.

They were definitely doing this again!


	15. Monday 15th October

As things turned out it was a good thing that Dean had got the new computer set up last week, as today he was desperately needed out back. Joss Henry, who owned one of the two rival garages in town, had been reduced to a skeleton staff when his two mechanics off with chickenpox became three. It would only be for a week before the first two got back, but in the meantime it meant a significantly increased workload at Bobby's garage.

It was times like these that some customers really ticked Dean off. He knew Joss would have explained the situation to them, and given them the option of taking their vehicle to one of the two other garages or waiting a week to have it done with him, but people still rolled into Bobby's and seemingly expected the garage to put aside all their regular customers and deal with them first. One particularly snooty woman with a Jeep did herself no favors at all by remarking 'this would never happen if women ran things' as she tottered out of the garage on perilously high heels and a skirt she was at least twenty years too old for. Mutton dressed as lamb if ever there was.

As Dean was the only one there that day who had had chickenpox, he volunteered to go over to Henry's garage and get the few parts they needed for the transfer jobs. The place lay just the other side of the town center, and as Dean passed back through he was surprised to see Cas walking back to the college. He pulled over and his husband got in.

“The secretary forgot to mail off an important letter to the Education Department”, Cas explained, “so I said I would walk down to the Post Office and do it myself. It had to go recorded delivery.”

Dean made a face.

“Is that April?” he asked. Of the three secretaries he had seen at the desk when he went to visit Cas at the college, two were elderly ladies and alright, but he had caught the younger one checking out Cas' butt as they left. That butt was Dean's, and no-one else got to even look at the delicious goodies down there.

“You're jealous of her”, Cas teased.

“She wants what's mine!” Dean growled possessively. “I've seen the way she looks at you.” He changed his voice to mimic the secretary. “Oh please, Mr. Novak won't you take this letter down to the post for me? And while you're about it, can you take down....”

“Dean!”

“I was only gonna say 'my number'!”

“Like hell you were!” Cas smiled. “But tonight, you can show me just how much you own my butt, okay?”

Dean did a happy little yip that was borderline manly. He definitely did not drool in anticipation. 

Much.


	16. Tuesday 16th October

After two days of the extra workload at the garage (plus his very thorough claiming of Cas' butt the night before), Dean was exhausted. And he had three more days of this ahead of him. Ugh!

Thankfully his wonderful husband was making one of his brilliant pasta meals tonight, so at least Dean had a full tummy, which he patted happily as he sat at the table. Cas returned from the bathroom and smiled at him.

“I'm running you a hot bath”, he told him, “and I'll be giving you a massage before we go to bed. You deserve it.”

“Hot damn”, Dean sighed contentedly. “You're gonna reduce me to the point where I'll be too tired for sex.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow at him, and Dean managed to keep a straight face for an impressive eight seconds.

“Nah!” he grinned.

+~+~+

From the cloudy fizzing waters Cas had splashed out on a bath bomb. That was a rare luxury for both of them; they had more than enough money to live on, but they did not often indulge in little extras, though that was mostly because, as Cas had pointed out, if they had them all the time then they would cease to be special. Then the scent hit Dean, and he almost reeled back in surprise.

“God Bless America!” Cas chuckled. “I bet you didn't know that Heaven's Scent now does apple-pie scented bath bombs.”

“I love this fucking country!” Dean muttered, shucking off his boxers and vest and stepping into the steaming water. It was almost too hot, just as he liked, and he took the best part of a minute to lower himself into the tub. Finally he was down, and let out a happy sigh.

He leaned forward and Cas slipped in behind him and began working on his back muscles. God, this was bliss!

The next thing he knew was that he was sitting naked in an empty tub. He looked up at his dressing-gown-clad husband, confused.

“You enjoyed it so much you fell asleep”, Cas chuckled. “Come on, Rip Van Winkle. Let's get you up to bed.”

Dean nodded sleepily, and let Cas help him up. God, he was one lucky son of a bitch!

+~+~+

Yeah, he was too tired for sex after all. But he settled for some cu... manly embracing. Because Cas liked that sort of thing.

Shut up.


	17. Wednesday 17th October

Dean had read somewhere that married life was like driving down a road together. Roadworks, diversions, clear stretches, dirt tracks... yeah, he could see the comparison sort of worked.

And today he'd hit a pothole. At speed.

It was his own damn fault, although in his defense it could be advanced that he was exhausted from a third hard day at the garage, and the clothes he threw in the direction of the laundry basket almost made it. And he was grumpy because Cas was working late at the college again on another of those open evening things, which meant Dean had to have dinner by himself. So yeah, he was just a bit untidy.

The consequences were horrible!

He must have dozed off on their bed, because when he woke Cas was standing there, giving him a disapproving look. Dean was confused until he remembered the throwing of the clothes. Cas definitely had a Thing about that damn laundry basket.

“C'mon Cas!” he whined. “I'm tired!”

That was when his husband gave him the Evil Smirk™, and Dean had the first inkling that he was, just possibly, in the smallest possible smidgen of bother.

The second inkling was when Cas started to do a slow striptease, removing layer after layer of his professor outfit whilst Dean watched, open-mouthed. By the time he was naked Dean was positively slavering, and his own dick was hard and leaking. 

And then Cas reached behind him and produced a familiar piece of leather, which he then began to strap on to himself. Dean's heart missed a beat.

“Cha.. cha... chastity belt?” he gasped.

“Yup!” Cas grinned, fastening it on and locking it. “And I changed the combination, so don't even think of trying. You get to have me next to you all night, and you get no satisfaction.”

Dean actually cried as his husband slipped into bed next to him and turned out the light. Fucking laundry baskets!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dean, the Consequences are not gonna stop there.....


	18. Thursday 18th October

Dean begged. He pleaded. He offered anything Cas wanted. But apparently his punishment for twenty-four seconds of untidiness was twenty-four hours of no sex. Cas was firm.

So was Dean. Getting dressed was... difficult.

Because Cas hadn't made him dinner as usual, Dean went to the Roadhouse for lunch. Which proved to be yet another mistake.

“What did you to do upset Cas this time?” Jo asked as she brought him his burger. Dean pouted.

“What makes you think I did anything?” he deflected.

“You've go that no sex look on you”, she said with a smirk. “Cas would never do that unless you'd upset him in some way. What was it?”

Damn but the girl was good! Dean pouted again.

“I was a bit untidy once!” he grumbled. “One time, dammit!”

Ellen Harvelle came up to stand beside her daughter.

“He's got that no sex look about him again”, she said. “What did he do to upset Cas this time?”

Dean gave up.

+~+~+

He got home a bit later than usual, and was surprised to find the stairway littered with colored post-its. He walked up and read each one in turn:

'17'  
'6'  
'12'  
'Is the combination.'  
'I'm still wearing the belt.'  
'And nothing else.'  
'In our bedroom'  
'What are you waiting for?'

How Dean Winchester did not have either an orgasm or a nervous breakdown (or possibly both) was truly a miracle. He did bounce off the corridor walls a few times before he made it to the bedroom though. And moments later he had to run back because he'd forgotten the damn numbers! It was totally worth it in the end, though. At least he was forgiven for that very small instance of untidiness.

Ah.....


	19. Friday 19th October

Thankfully one of Joss Henry's mechanics had returned to work a day early, so the heavier than usual workload had stopped, to the gratitude of just about everyone. At least they'd all be getting good bonuses this year.

Dean was surprised, however, when Cas turned up just after lunch.

“Did I forget something?” Dean asked.

“Not exactly”, Cas smiled. He was wearing his dorky black-rimmed glasses, which he usually kept for reading and certain scenes. Which Dean should really not be thinking about, because... well, he wasn't wearing loose pants for one thing.

“I arranged with Bobby to borrow you this afternoon”, Cas explained. “We're going into town for an appointment with the opticians.”

“I don't need glasses”, Dean said defensively.

Mistake. Cas immediately turned his 'I am named after an angel and I will smite you' face up to full. Dean shuddered. Across the office Krissy sniggered, the cow.

“I've seen you squinting at the newspaper, and you spend a good part of your day staring at a computer screen”, Cas said firmly. “Let alone the time you spend on the laptop at home, not watching porn.” Dean blushed, and there was another snigger from across the office. “Bobby offered to pay as you'll use them at work, but with our recent windfall we can afford it ourselves. You and I are going to get your eyes tested, and then you are going to buy a new pair of glasses which will make you look even sexier.”

Dean blushed again, but followed his husband out to the car. Cas stopped before opening the door.

“Besides”, he rumbled, “then we can act out that scene where the English professor fucks the mechanical engineering professor into a sex coma whilst they're both wearing glasses.”

Dean almost tore the door off trying to get into the damn pimpmobile!


	20. Saturday 20th October

The only downside of scening, Dean had long realized, was the drop back to normality afterwards. Last night he and Cas had christened Dean's new set of glasses – fortunately he hadn't needed special ones ordered – and his husband had indeed succeeded in fucking Dean into a sex coma, the mechanic passing out afterwards and only walking up some time later to pull his sleeping husband even closer. 

This morning, however, he felt a bit down, especially as Cas had gotten up early to go shopping, of all things. Apparently the Menzies and their friends were doing some sort of demonstration outside Wal-Mart around lunchtime (Mrs. Benfield had kindly warned them two days before), and Cas naturally wanted to avoid them. 

As did Dean. Permanently.

There were still chores to do, so Dean loaded up the washing-machine and then got out the vacuum. He was doing the kitchen when Cas came back in and dumped four heavily-laden bags onto the table.

“I got that vanilla ice-cream you liked”, Cas said, taking out a large tub and walking over to the fridge-freezer. 

He opened it and bent down to place the tub in the bottom draw. As he did, his t-shirt rode up and exposed a flash of skin. And something else.

“Cas?” Dean said, in a voice at least an octave higher than usual, “are you wearing... panties?”

Cas turned and gave him a slow smile.

“Yeah”, he rumbled. “Is that a problem?”

+~+~+

They didn't make it to the bedroom. Dean virtually tore his husband's clothes off of him in the living-room, threw him onto the couch and came inside him with a roar. It briefly crossed Dean's mind that perhaps he might have turned off the vacuum which was still buzzing away in the kitchen, but then Cas used his walls to squeeze Dean's dick hard, and the mechanic thought no more.

He had an added bonus some time later when Sam caught him smirking at a vacuum cleaner in a store, and muttered something about the advantages of being an orphan.


	21. Sunday 21st October

After yesterday's panty- (and vacuum-cleaner-) inspired events which had subsequently been ranked among Dean Winchester's Official Top Ten Greatest Orgasms Of All Time™, Cas had insisted on getting their weekend chores done. Dean had reluctantly gone along, although he was in truth hoping for more orgasms as his reward.

It turned out that Cas had a somewhat different reward in mind.

“I noticed how much you enjoyed that day with Ben when the three of us lazed around in our pajamas all day”, he said in bed that morning. “So I thought we might make that a thing every now and again, starting today.”

Dean looked at him in surprise.

“You not gotta ton of crap to do?” he asked.

“Inias is due back tomorrow, so my workload is back to normal”, Cas told him. “And you may remember that I wanted to get a lot done yesterday. I thought that with all that out of the way, we could just cuddle a lot today.”

And he had to go and ruin it with the c-word. Cas laughed at Dean's pout.

“You do know that, in some cities, there are people who hire themselves out as professional cuddlers”, Cas pointed out. “I'm being a goooood husband and offering you that for free. And I know you love it.”

That, Dean thought wryly, was the problem. Though neither of them spoke the name, they both knew the real issue here was one John Winchester, who had raised Dean to be a manly man, and who had bitterly opposed his friendship and later relationship with Cas. Dean could still recall the shock on his father's face when he tried to force his son to choose between the two of them, and Dean had gone and made the obvious choice.

But because Cas was such a wonderful husband, he understood what Dean needed even as he knew that his man found it difficult to vocalize that want. So with a happy sigh, Dean moved into his husband's arms and let himself be... held in a manly embrace. Yeah, that was it. 

Was that a snigger? 

Dean pulled back and eyed his husband warily, but no-one could do innocent like his Cas. With a sigh, he subsided into his arms once more.


	22. Monday 22nd October

One of the things about Cas was that he took things very seriously. Not that Dean complained when, amongst that list of serious things, was seriously reducing his husband to a happy pile of goo on a regular basis! 

Cas' latest reason to worry was that their neighbor across the close, Sarah Blake, was off to California for a week to manage an art exhibition there. It had been very sudden; apparently the artist being shown had had a major falling out with the woman originally down to organize the exhibition, and it had come to an exchange of blows that had even made the local paper (Cas had glared at him when Dean had gone 'ooo, catfight!'). Sarah had been called up on Saturday to ask if she could fly in and take over, and Cas had promised to keep an eye on her house while she was gone.

Dean did note, however, that the exhibition was to be in San Francisco. Not that far from Stanford....

+~+~+

Although Charlie had to remind him to 'randomly' surprise his husband from time to time, Dean did occasionally remember to do things by himself. Krissy was feeling under the weather today what with a severe head-cold, so he offered to go across to the coffee-shop opposite and fetch her one of those disgustingly overpriced cups of sludge that she loved. The coffee-shop was one of four small shops in a mini-mall, and Dean was about to enter when he caught sight of an astronomy display in the bookshop next door. He knew that Cas loved science (though he loathed some TV presenters who seemed to think more of themselves than their subject, something Dean fully backed him on). He thought only briefly before dashing into the store to buy one of the books on offer, remembering to ask for the receipt in an envelope. If Cas already had it or didn't like it, he could exchange it for something else.

Cas loved it. And he showed his thanks that evening by giving his husband such a blow-job that Dean was heartily glad he was lying down at the time, because otherwise he'd have passed out! There may even have been some manly embracing afterwards, because Dean was such a considerate husband.

And his conscience could shut the fuck up right now!


	23. Tuesday 23rd October

It was time for Baby's annual service, always a nervous moment for Dean. Cas must have known, because he asked his husband if he could give him a lift into work that day (some sort of Save The Planet thing; Dean wasn't really paying attention). Cas would walk down to the garage and meet him at the garage, then do more work at home later.

It was reassuring having Cas beside him, and it helped take his mind off his anxieties a little. Due to conflict of interest it was understood that guys did not service their own cars, so Dean would have to sit biting his nails in the front office whilst Benny and Cain took care of Baby. He was strictly forbidden from going back and interfering. Sighing, he pulled into a parking space outside the school and switched off the engine.

“Perhaps I can help take your mind off of things?” Cas ventured.

“Can't see how”, Dean muttered as people walked by Baby. “You can hardly blow me in the college car park.”

Cas smiled knowingly, and took two blue ties out of his pocket. 

“Which do you think I should wear, Dean?” he asked.

They looked pretty much identical to Dean, but he pointed to the very slightly darker one of the two. 

“I agree”, Cas said, tying it neatly around his neck before reaching for the door. “And Dean?”

“Uh huh?”

Dean recoiled. Cas' look was positively feral.

“You'll be using both of these tonight”, Cas growled. “You'll be tying me to our bed and fucking me until I scream. In the meantime, you keep the other one safe for me, alright? Enjoy your day!”

And with that the sneaky fucker got out of the car and strolled towards the college, putting on the darker tie as he went. Dean stared after his retreating butt (which he was sure Cas swayed a few tines, the bastard) and tried to catch his breath, before reaching down and adjusting himself. Several times.

“Yeah”, he muttered. “That distracted me alright, you horny sonovabitch!”


	24. Wednesday 24th October

“Mavis is moving to Canada.”

Dean looked at Bobby in surprise. The news didn't surprise him; the small independent gas station next door to the garage (well, the other side of an access path) had never seemed that busy, even thought they were close by a main road. And the revamping of the much bigger Exxon station that was nearer the main road had probably done for it.

“And?” he asked, wondering why Bobby was telling him.

“I'm thinking of buying it”, Bobby said, scratching his beard. “We need the space, for one thing. I was thinking a big steel barn there for all the junkers, then expand this place backwards.”

Dean was a bit surprised. They were doing okay but he dealt with the garage accounts, and he hadn't thought they were doing well enough for such an expansion. Bobby's next sentence blind-sided him.

“I wanted you to think about doing restorations”, he said. “I bought a Bel Air last week, and I thought you could bring her back to life. You always liked that more than just regular work.”

That was true. They did occasionally get cars which were total wrecks but which, usually for sentimental reasons, the owners wanted restored. Dean loved working on them because the finished product was so different from the mess he started out with. And he could relate to people who loved their cars (thought not those 'who had an unhealthy, quasi-sexual relationship with them including terms of endearment', and a certain blue-eyed genius could shut up about that!). 

“Would it even pay?” Dean asked doubtfully.

“Not saying you have to”, Bobby said. “But think about it, son. Three or four sweet rides, displayed out the front. That'd pull in the customer much more than that bloody neon sign!”

Dean grinned. Bobby hated the sign – he complained that it was too like the one over the 'gentlemen's club' further down the road - and hated it even more that it had increased business.

“I'll think about it”, he promised.

“You do that, son”, Bobby said as he disappeared back to his office and trashy romance novels. “And talk to that husband of yours!”

“Cas doesn't own me, you know!” Dean called after him.

Bobby really needed to take something for that cough.


	25. Thursday 25th October

“I don't see why you're so against the idea”, Cas said over breakfast that morning (the evening before might have been a good time to discuss this, but Cas had followed up the blue ties with red ones and – well, Dean couldn't remember much of what had taken place thereafter, save to say that he had been mentally floating somewhere up with the low-orbit satellites). He frowned.

“It's a risk”, he said anxiously. “We're starting a family, Cas. Can we really afford to take risks?”

“But you said the garage has enough business for the larger site, let alone all the extra cars you can take on with the new space”, Cas pointed out. “People can see all those junkers from the road, and I tell you, it's off-putting. Besides, it's not that much of a risk; it's just one car to start with, isn't it?”

“A gorgeous '57 Bel Air”, Dean grinned. “Silver, but I think she'd look cool in pastel green with a white stripe. And cream interiors.”

Cas smirked at him.

“What?” Dean asked.

“You're already calling it 'she'”, Cas grinned. “Should Baby be jealous?”

“Shaddup!” Dean pouted.

“I do have one suggestion”, Cas went on. “Ash runs the garage online site, doesn't he?”

“Yeah”, Dean said. “He once tried to get Bobby to have us all wear t-shirts with the garage name on it, and the old guy threw a fit!”

“Why not ask Ash to do a page where you can show how work on the car is progressing?” Cas suggested. “You could upload pictures as you go along. People who see it might even make you an offer. How much do you think it might be worth?”

“I googled it earlier” Dean said. “There was one going for over a hundred grand, but I doubt I'll make that. And how am I gonna pay for parts?”

“Ask Bobby”, Cas said. “And tell him that in the unlikely event of the car making a loss, we'll use that eight grand to cover it.”

“Cas!”, Dean exclaimed. “You can't do that!”

“It's you, Dean”, Cas said calmly. “Of course 'we' can!”


	26. Friday 26th October

Bobby was fine with paying for the parts and getting his money back later. Cas had also suggested, very fairly, that Dean log the amount of work time he spent on the Bel Air and pay Bobby that out of any profit, since a lot of the restoration would be done in company time. The old man grunted, but accepted the terms with his customary 'idjit!'. 

It was only when Dean saw the actual car that he began to have serious doubts. The bodywork was solid enough, but the insides were gutted. She would need a brand new engine, new seats, the works. Could he do it?

Typically, that was when he got a text from Cas:

*I have faith in you*

Damn mind-reading husband! Dean smiled, though.

Cas had also advised him against spending too long on the car at any one time, not just because it would be unfair on his co-workers who would have to take up any slack, but also because the longer the process took, the more time people would have to become interested in it. Dean seriously doubted that, and when Ash told him he had a page for the Bel Air ready and waiting, he gave him three shots of the car to start with. He was shocked when, before the end of the day, he had already had an offer to buy the car as it was for two grand more than Bobby had paid for it!

He texted one of the pictures to Cas, who was definitely gonna pay for texting back that he could not wait for him and Dean to christen the finished product. Thank God Dean was out back and could will the resultant hard-on back down. At least he had Baby back, she having (of course) sailed through her annual service with flying colors. He couldn't betray her by having sex with his wonderful husband in another classic car.

Probably couldn't.

Meh, she'd forgive him.

He arrived home feeling emotionally drained, but happy. And his husband was waiting just inside the kitchen door with open arms, into with Dean fell with a contented sigh.

Best. Husband. Ever!


	27. Saturday 27th October

They had an unexpected visitor that morning. Mrs. Benfield called round.

“I'm sorry to disturb you”, she said with a smile, “but I need a favor.”

“Ask away”, Cas said, offering her a cup of tea. She smiled and accepted it.

“Sarah Blake told me that you're looking after her house whilst she's away”, she said. “I had an email from her this morning. She has come down with something, and is having to fly back tomorrow, a day early. At least her show is all set up.”

“Oh dear”, Cas said. 

Mrs. Benfield sipped at her cup.

“English Breakfast”, she said. “You have good taste, Castiel, but then I knew that already.”

Dean blushed.

“Anyway, the favor”, she said. “Every year, the estate children go round trick-or-treating on Halloween, as I'm sure you may have guessed. Last year some of the older people on the estate were a little alarmed when they went round in a large group, so this year we're splitting them up. Sarah was to take the Fitzherbert's two children – they live in Londinium Road, and poor Tom has got a broken leg – but now she can't. I had a replacement lined up, but she's just had to go into hospital.”

“Ah”, Cas said knowingly. “And to do that, we would of course need Halloween costumes.”

“Would the Fitzherberts mind two gay men taking their kids?” Dean asked nervously.

“Considering her brother is gay, I doubt it”, she smiled. “Unfortunately he lives across town, and he's already taking his own neighbor's kids around.”

“We would be delighted to help out”, Cas said. “Next Wednesday, isn't it?”

“Yes”, she said with a smile. “Thank you so much, boys.”


	28. Sunday 28th October

That morning brought another angst-filled email from Dean's brother. He sighed as he read it.

“Someone upstairs has it in for Sammy”, he said. “First Jess going to England, and now he's got chickenpox. Lots of people seem to be getting that lately.”

“It is highly infectious”, Cas said, “and I am glad Ben's already had it, as we both have. It's so much easier when you're young, unlike most diseases.”

“He's probably got a crap ton of other stuff to get, though”, Dean said with another sigh. 

“And we'll be there to help him through all of it”, Cas said. “You're very down today. Is it just Sam?”

“It's been one hell of a year”, Dean sighed. “And three weeks from now our lives could change forever.”

“They will change forever”, Cas said firmly. “His uncle has shown zero interest in him, and the courts will see that.”

“But what if he brings up the bar fight?” Dean asked, worriedly.

“I doubt he'd be dumb enough to do that”, Cas pointed out. “First, Ellen has the recording on tape, so there's evidence that he started it. She gave me a copy and I've put it on my phone, so we can always enter it as evidence if we need to. And secondly, he'd have to explain what he was doing here in the first place. 'Sorry your honor, I was just spying out the opposition'. That would go down like a moldy piece of pie.”

Dean was silent, but he looked hopefully at his husband. Cas sighed.

“Alright”, he said with a smile. “You can have pie for breakfast this once.”

“Yes!” Dean fist-pumped the air in triumph. He might be a totally whipped guy, but at least he was a totally whipped guy with pie!


	29. Monday 29th October

Cas was unusually thoughtful when his husband arrived home that evening. That was definitely his Brooding But Not On Something Too Bad Face™.

“Should I be concerned?” Dean asked, silently missing his usual stripping off of an evening. At least he got to wear the wrist-band, which told Cas that he was his whenever he wanted. His husband smiled reassuringly at him.

“I went round to see Sarah, now she's back”, he said. “Poor girl was covered.”

“Covered?” Dean asked, confused.

“Chickenpox”, Cas said carefully.

Dean's eyebrows shot up. Oh.

“Did she, uh, say anything about her trip?” Dean asked tentatively.

“She slept with your brother.”

Dean promptly dropped all three letters he'd just picked up, before he saw the glint of a smile in his husband's eyes.

“Not cool, Cas!” he muttered. “Seems a bit of a coincidence, though. We know Sammy liked her when he came here, and now she goes to just down the road from him, he has chickenpox, and she gets it too!”

Cas looked at him anxiously. Dean sighed.

“What else?” he asked.

“Well, we talked for some time and I promised to do her shopping for her and stuff”, Cas said. “She told me a bit about the exhibition, and it sounded interesting, so when I got back I went online to see if there were any pictures from it.”

“And?” Dean prompted. 

“She neglected to mention that the actual site of the exhibition wasn't in San Francisco”, Cas said quietly. “It was at a nearby university. A quite famous one.”

Oh. Oh!


	30. Tuesday 30th October

Dean almost ran into the house that evening, desperately looking for Cas and yelling out his husband's name. He was about to charge upstairs when he heard music coming from the downstairs bathroom. Relieved (and definitely not hyperventilating), he almost fell over his feet as he turned to run down the corridor. He banged on the door.

“Cas! Cas!” he yelled.

“I'm in the bath”, came his husband's muffled voice. “What's wrong, Dean?”

“We forgot to sort Halloween costumes for when we take the Fitzherberts' kids round tomorrow!” Dean all but yelled.

“You mean you forgot”, Cas called back pointedly. “I didn't. Your costume is set out for you in the gym. I tried mine on earlier, and it fitted fine.”

Dean let out a huge sigh of relief.

“You're wonderful, baby!” he called out. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably end up donning your worst plaid shirt and going as a lumberjack!” Cas retorted. “Go and try yours on.”

“Sure”, Dean called back. “Thanks, babe!”

God, he had the best husband in the world, Dean thought as he turned and walked through the door directly behind him. And there was one of those long black coat-wrapper bags which, presumably, contained the costume Cas had chosen for him.

Somewhat belatedly, a faint alarm bell rang in Dean Winchester's mind. The costume his loving husband had chosen for him. Cas had totally forgiven him for that laundry basket incident, hadn't he? 

He advanced on the innocuous black bag and slowly undid the zip, then folded back the top half to reveal....

“Hell no!”

+~+~+

What made the whole thing worse (if that were possible) was Cas' calmness over the whole thing. He just smiled at Dean, who sat there pouting despite the pie. No way could his husband be mean enough to make him go round the estate wearing that!

“You did say you liked superheroes”, Cas reminded him. “And they didn't have Batman in your size, so I chose the next best alternative.

Hah! Dean ratcheted up the pout to eleven. Cas chuckled.

“Think of all the extra sweets!” he teased.

Yeah, there was that.... but still, no way. He was definitely not doing it.

Probably definitely. 

Ish.


	31. Wednesday 31st October

Cas had made him wear it, the bastard! Dean was not putting out for the rest of the year after this! He was not even speaking to the blue-eyed sex-god next to him, no matter how gorgeous he looked in that tight-fitting Superman outfit! No matter how much that uniform clung to Cas' gorgeous body. No way. This was just too much!

It all kicked off with the Fitzherberts, who Dean had still had fears about as to whether they would let Jamie (eight) and Elizabeth (seven) go off with two gay guys. But that hadn't been a problem. No sirree. Mainly because when they had opened the door to the two of them, said couple had promptly fallen about laughing, Tom Fitzherbert nearly toppling off his crutches. Dean had nearly stomped off home right there and then, before the guy had staged a recovery.

“Thank you Superman”, he said to Cas, before turning to Dean. “And, uh, Wonder Woman!”

Bastards! Dean tossed back his itchy black wig in annoyance. They were all was one snide remark away from joining Fluffy out by the back pond, the lot of them!

The kids, dressed as a witch and a wizard. loved their guides' costumes (the brats), especially as they seemed to encourage the people they met to be even more generous than usual – once they'd stopped laughing at Dean that was. Some of the bastards even took phone shots; if any of those ended up on the Net, Dean was suing. And if Cas goosed him one more time just before the door was opened to them all, he was filing for sexual harassment as well!

Dean was a bit surprised that the English guy, Parker Bradley, had his porch light on, and a large bowl of candy ready. And a smirk that erupted into a loud guffaw once he'd shut the door after them, the bastard. Dean scowled, and noted that the light next door was most definitely off. Thank heaven for small mercies!

Finally – and it seemed like an age - they were done, and walked the now tired kids back home, carrying their considerable hauls for them. The Fitzherberts thanked them graciously (Dean was sure he heard another burst of laughter just as the door was closing behind them) and the whole horrible ordeal was over. 

“Well, Wonder Woman?” Cas grinned. “You gonna help a tired superhero peel off his costume?”

Dean adjusted his bodice yet again, which was riding up just.. well, he'd have a rash tomorrow. Then Cas goosed him yet again, and he yelped indignantly. He made a grab for his husband, but missed.

“Gotta catch me first!” Cas called, sprinting away towards the park.

Dean did – coincidentally, in their bedroom. It was Wonderful!


End file.
